Traitor's Sun

  sense of unease. Gareth seemed like a good lad, but Lew did not know him very

  well. He must have the wind up more than he thought, if he was being suspicious

  of a child of fourteen. And why was Gisela watching him? The last thing he

  needed was more of her mischief.

  But she was smiling, and Lew could not remember the last time he had found Giz

  smiling at anything. There was nothing in her look that was alarming, and then

  he realized she was not actually looking at him, but at his dinner companion,

  Katherine Aldaran. Wonder of wonders, there was an expression of fondness on

  Gisela's face as she looked at her sister-in-law.

  Kate was just finishing her soup, and she raised her eyes from her bowl, caught

  Gisela's look, and returned the smile. The tension in her shoulders slackened as

  her eyes met the other woman's. He realized that his abrupt silence had

  perturbed Katherine, that she must have understood that he was using his laran,

  and had probably assumed it had something to do with her. Still, she was

  containing her fears wonderfully, and he was impressed again. What had he been

  saying to her? He could not remember . . .

  Really, he was getting too old to maintain a normal conversation while he

  communicated telepathically. He felt a strange satisfaction in this

  realization-he was so very fortunate to be as old as he was! He had managed to

  outlive many of his foes, and had acquired a bit of real wisdom along the way.

  The biting grief was that he had lost so many precious friends at the same time.

  Lew dipped his spoon and took another mouthful of soup. It was tepid and

  unappetizing now, and he pushed the bowl away. He considered Belfontaine and

  Granfell again, weighing what he knew of the two men from his visits to HQ.

  Their surface thoughts were similar, full of ambition and a longing for power.

  Lew had never really understood minds like theirs, no matter how many people he

  encountered who thought this way. He wondered if Lyle Belfontaine had the least

  idea of how eager his subordinate was to get ahead. Could he use this to

  Darkover's advantage?

  Javanne Hastur was fixing him with a basilisk glare from the other side of the

  table, her rather protuberant eyes bulging with suspicion. Katherine shifted

  uncomfortably in her chair, thinking the look was aimed at her, and he heard the

  creak of the wood beneath her slender body. He returned Javanne's gaze with a

  bland smile, knowing this would annoy her enormously. It was a shame they had so

  many old scores to settle. Javanne was really an intelligent woman whose

  pettiness and wrong-thinking was born of her frustration and feelings of

  powerlessness.

  Lew turned his eyes toward Katherine, and thought how very nice she looked in

  the white wool gown with black embroidery that he had given his daughter years

  before. The colors suited her perfectly, and the dress outlined the rise of her

  breasts in a modest way that was all the more provoking for being so subtle. He

  liked her, and thought that Herm was lucky to have found such a wife. Then

  Mikhail, at the head of the table, quirked an eyebrow at him, and the enormity

  of his easy promise to Nico swept through him. He should have told the lad to

  come back! How was he going to tell Mik, let alone Marguerida?

  "Forgive me, Domna Katherine. I have no idea what we were talking

  about-something came into my mind and I completely lost my train of thought."

  "What are you up to now?" Javanne asked suspiciously.

  Lew did not answer immediately, but instead studied the woman he had known for

  over six decades. Time had been kind to her, and although her red hair was now

  almost as white as Regis' had been, her skin was still smooth and soft, and she

  did not look her age. He wondered if her combative disposition kept her

  youthful-certainly her personality had not mellowed with years, and he could

  almost forgive his eldest grandson for running off in order to avoid her. She

  had always been a headstrong and difficult person-a bully-even as a girl, but he

  had never thought her wicked or evil. Like himself, she was just quite

  pig-headed in favor of her own treasured opinions.

  "Mother, do stop plaguing Lew, as if he been created purely to annoy you."

  For a moment it appeared that Javanne was going to lose her temper at her

  youngest and least loved son. Instead, she held herself in check, as if the

  presence of Katherine Aldaran made her hesitate. Lew let himself marvel at his

  daughter's cunning in the seating arrangements. She had put Gabriel Lanart-Alton

  at her right, at the other end of the table, and Javanne at Mikhail's,

  separating the couple by the length of the board. Then she had put Lew across

  from Javanne, to draw her wrath away from Mikhail, and paired him with

  Katherine, to guarantee at least a semblance of courtesy. Under Dio's tutelage,

  during the last years of her life, Marguerida had turned from a rather awkward

  young academic into a capable and even masterful political hostess, able to be

  gracious under the most trying of circumstances. He looked down the board toward

  his daughter, and, aware of his regard, she gazed at him, a bit puzzled. He let

  his deep love for his only child hold him for a moment, then turned back to wait

  for Javanne's response.

  "I do not imagine that Lew was brought to life just to irritate me, although it

  often feels as if he were." This admission had a ring of sincerity. "But he

  spent too many years away from Darkover for me to trust him completely. I

  believe he is too much a friend of the Federation for anyone's good." This had

  been her complaint for years, and it did not bother him in the least. More,

  Javanne was genuinely distraught over her brother's sudden death, and by the

  fact that she had not been summoned until he was gone. That Lady Linnea had been

  adamant on that matter she did not know, and he hoped she never would.

  Undoubtedly she thought it was Lew's fault, and that was for the best. What she

  really wanted was a good argument, the better to vent her churning emotions.

  "Tell me, Javanne, if you had a choice, would you prefer a foe you could see, or

  one that was invisible?"

  She blinked her large eyes once, then frowned at Lew. "One I could see,

  obviously. What sort of question is that?" The color rose in her cheeks, as if

  she suspected he was trying to trick her somehow.

  "Very wise. And while the Federation maintains a presence on Darkover, we can

  keep an eye on them. But I fear you are about to realize your oft spoken wish to

  have them gone. At present, it is their intention to withdraw in a month, by

  their reckoning."

  Her eyes narrowed. "And when were you going to share this wonderful news?" She

  did not sound very pleased, but instead seemed even more wary.

  "At the Council meeting, Mother, when everyone was present, and could hear it at

  one time, with all the details that we know thus far," Mikhail explained

  patiently.

  "Very proper," she admitted grudgingly. "I suppose you are disappointed by this

  development," she shot at Lew, still seeking something to dispute.

  "Not in the least. The Station Chief has been a headache since he arrived, and

  the Planetar
y Administrator is nothing but a figurehead and can do nothing to

  control him. The political changes that have occurred in the Federation have not

  been to our benefit at all. And I will not miss Lyle Belfontaine for one moment.

  But I confess I am more than a little alarmed by the planned pullout." He could

  sense Katherine listening intently to what he was saying. A servant whisked away

  his empty bowl, and replaced it with rabbithorn forcemeat in a tender crust, a

  serving of carrots surrounding it. It looked very tempting, and he hoped that

  Javanne would not ruin his appetite with her persistent needling.

  "Alarmed?" There was a note of caution in Javanne's voice, for however much they

  disagreed on almost everything concerning Darkover, she had a decent respect for

  his political acumen.

  "Yes, Javanne, alarmed. Once they abandon the spaceport, we will not be able to

  watch what they are doing."

  "But, why should that matter?"

  "You are not a stupid woman, cousin. Think! Without a presence on the planet,

  and their own people to consider, there is nothing to restrain the Federation

  from attempting to conquer Darkover by force."

  Her eyes bulged dangerously. "I had not . . . you are trying to frighten me, Lew

  Alton!"

  "No, I am not!" He paused, filled with the longing to avoid a real

  confrontation, no matter how much Javanne wished for one. There would be enough

  shouting and disagreement when the Comyn Council met to satisfy everyone. He

  decided to take a different tack, to see if he could distract the woman.

  "Although if I were, it might pay you back for that ghost story you told me when

  I was twelve. I had nightmares for weeks afterward. Javanne is a superb

  storyteller," he informed Katherine, wishing to draw her into the conversation,

  "and can chill your blood with a minimum of words."

  I can believe that. She remands me of my Aunt Tansy, always so sure she knew

  best how to run other people's lives. "We have a lot of such stories on Renney,

  but I never have acquired a taste for them. When I was five or six, we visited

  one of the ghost groves on the coast, and I was frightened out of my wits,"

  Katherine replied. She gave him one of her remarkable smiles, as if she

  understood what he was doing, and Lew found himself thinking again that Herm was

  a damn lucky man.

  "Fancy you remembering that," Javanne said, preening slightly, and looking

  rather fine, with a blush on her pale cheeks and a glitter of pleasure in her

  eyes.

  "It was a formidible influence on my life," he answered dryly.

  "Do you really believe the Federation would try to . . . invade Darkover, Lew?"

  She was sufficiently mollified by her own memory of the ghost story to be civil

  instead of spiteful.

  "I don't know, but I confess to being worried."

  Javanne stared at him, her face a mirror of conflicted emotions. "You are

  serious, aren't you?"

  "Very."

  Javanne lowered her head and took a bite of her rabbithorn. She chewed and

  swallowed, sipped some wine, and then looked at Lew again, her face thoughtful

  and less angry now. "I believe I have misjudged matters somewhat, in my efforts

  to keep the Terranan from . . . forgive me, cousin. I see I have not respected

  your efforts as I should have."

  "There is nothing to forgive," he answered, startled by her uncharacteristic

  apology. He ignored the slight stab of conscience at the lie on his lips. There

  was a great deal to forgive, starting with Javanne's rejection of Domenic. But

  he thought it wiser to take advantage of her good humor of the moment than to

  settle any old scores. She would likely be conspiring with Francisco Ridenow

  before the dishes were cleared, for she simply could not resist the urge to

  meddle. "We see things very differently, but we both want what is best for

  Darkover."

  Javanne nodded, then looked down the board, at Danilo Hastur, sitting next to

  his mother, toward the center of the gathering and well away from the most

  volatile of the guests. "Yes, we do," she finally answered, casting a sudden and

  unloving look on Mikhail before she turned her attention to her supper.

  I need to see you after dinner, Mik-it is important.

  Oh, no! More alarms and excursions? By Aldones, I wish that Regis had never made

  me his heir! Very well-in my study. At least it will get me away from Mother.

  Two hours later, Lew Alton and Mikhail Hastur were sitting in the cozy and

  shabby study where so many important matters had been decided over the years.

  Danilo Syrtis-Ardais, Donal Alar, and Herm Aldaran were also in attendance. Lew

  looked at Mikhail and chewed his lower lip reflectively. His son-in-law looked

  exhausted, and he was not feeling too chipper himself. The dinner had seemed

  interminable despite the excellence of the food, and the pleasant company of

  Katherine Aldaran. He had been restless, aware that his grandson was alone in

  uncertain circumstances. It was unlikely that any harm would come to him with so

  many people around him. Still, he wondered if he should have just ordered the

  boy to return, instead of taking it upon himself to tell him to remain by the

  gate.

  Javanne had recovered from her good mood, returning to her earlier one of

  confrontation, and it had taken all of his energy to keep from arguing with her.

  It had ruined his pleasure in the food, until he had thought to ask Katherine

  about the ghost groves she had mentioned. This had led the conversation onto

  less treacherous paths, and after a while, Javanne had given up the effort to

  berate him or Mikhail for things entirely beyond their control.

  After dessert, Javanne had descended on Dani Hastur, all smiles and charm, and

  Lew had watched, caught between amusement and annoyance at the transparency of

  her actions. She had never resigned herself to Dani's choice of the Elhalyn

  Domain over the Hastur one, and it was now clear that she was going to try to

  get the man into her clutches. Dani had shrunk away from her attentions

  politely, and Gareth had said something that made her laugh and ruffle his fine,

  golden hair with a tender hand. Lew, observing the action as Javanne returned to

  harrassing her nephew, Dani, had found the boy looking back at him again, with

  an unreadable expression on his handsome features. Dani looked haggard, and

  ready to lose his usually calm temper, and finally Dom Gabriel had intervened

  and almost dragged his tiresome wife out of the dining room and back to their

  suite.

  That inconsequential moment came back to Lew now. There was something going on,

  something he was missing, and he knew he could not bring his attention to the

  problem at hand until he solved the puzzle of Gareth Hastur-Elhalyn to his own

  satisfaction. The boy had never shown any interest in Javanne on his two

  previous visits to Comyn Castle. So why was he hanging close to her now-he had

  been by her side before they started eating, too!

  Looking around at the comfortable furnishings of Regis' study, Lew remembered

  another gathering in that room, fifteen years before. He could recall the

  tension in the chamber, and the sound of Dani Hastur's voice, anxious and

  fearful, as
he told his father he did not wish to be the heir of Hastur. And,

  with this, Lew suddenly knew the answer to the puzzle. His belly knotted. How

  could they have been so stupid not to have anticipated that perhaps Dani's son

  would feel cheated of an inheritance he would otherwise have had. The Elhalyn

  kingship was nothing compared to the real power which Regis had wielded, and it

  never would be.

  If he was correct, and Lew now felt certain he was, then Gareth would regard

  Javanne as a natural ally. The boy had not been proclaimed as Elhalyn heir

  yet-he was almost a year away from that-and so he could nurture hopes for a

  reversal of the agreement that Regis and Mikhail had entered into! And Javanne

  would seize the opportunity in both her skillful hands. He held back a groan.

  What a dreadful time Nico had picked to do something uncharacteristically

  mischievous and probably very foolish. Fortunate, in that he had discovered a

  plot-which still might come to nothing-but unfortunate in that his absence was

  certain to cause problems. He weighed the matter in his mind again, considering

  various possible scenarios. After several seconds, Lew decided he did not like

  the expression on Gareth's face one bit. Perhaps Domenic was safer away from

  Comyn Castle than in it. For a moment he was aghast by the deadly direction his

  thoughts had taken. Gareth was only a boy! He must be more tired than he

  thought, to entertain such ideas. On the other hand, accidents could occur, and

  it was better to be safe than sorry. If he was wrong, then he was wrong, but if

  his suspicious mind had turned up something worth worrying about, then he must

  proceed cautiously.

  Ruthlessly, Lew played out the possibilities. If something happened to

  Domenic-Aldones forbid-Mikhail still had another son. But Roderick, fine lad

  that he was, did not have a head for governance, and he could not imagine

  anyone, even Javanne, suggesting that he should be named heir. Without Nico, the

  logical person to follow Mikhail would be Gareth Elhalyn, which would find favor

  with Javanne Hastur and several others on the Council. Keeping Nico out of reach

  suddenly seemed a very good idea! He was probably imagining plots where none

  existed, and he would keep his peace on the matter for the moment, but he would

  keep an eye on Gareth, just in case.